


The Flu

by CheekyPotato



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Angst, M/M, Sickfic, some mention of vomit
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-06
Updated: 2017-05-12
Packaged: 2018-10-15 20:24:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 5,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10557168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CheekyPotato/pseuds/CheekyPotato
Summary: Set during season one, Yuuri's dream of redeeming himself at the GPF are dashed by the flu.





	1. Chapter 1

This was not good. Definitely not good. Especially for today of all days.

Yuuri sat on his knees in front of the toilet in their hotel room, wiping away the bits of vomit that clung to his chin. His stomach twisted uneasily which sent a new wave of nausea through his already exhausted body. 

What else did he have left to throw up?

His stomach clenched up causing the skater to grip the sides of the porcelain bowl, coughing and heaving, helplessly.

After a few minutes that felt like an agonizing eternity, Yuuri's stomach settled and he slid back on his knees, resting his flushed cheek on the cool seat. 

He couldn’t get sick.

How could he get sick on the day of competition? But he had to be honest. He hadn't been feeling too hot since yesterday. Probably earlier than that. He had felt achy lately, but he attributed it to practice. He must've overdid it. That was the only reason. But yesterday, his head hurt and he felt tired. But that could be nerves. His anxiety lurking at the edges of his mind with the next competition coming up. Even as the the night approached and he wasn't feeling better, even after Viktor got him some tea and offered to massage those lingering aches, Yuuri still couldn't piece together that he getting sick. But now, he couldn't deny it. It wasn't his anxiety. Wasn't over practicing. He was sick. On the very day of his short program.

But he couldn't give up.

Okay,so he just threw up, and yes he could barely muster the energy to move let alone flush the toilet, and he probably was running a fever, but he could still do this. Many athletes had dealt with worse and competed. Many skaters had serious injuries and still took the ice by storm. Hell, even Viktor had-

"Ah, so sorry Yuuri! It took me forever to get your tea." Viktor's voice sent a new wave a gut twisting panic. 

"Yuuri?" 

Yuuri wished he could get up. He did NOT want Viktor to see him like this. Why did everything feel so awful right now? Come on Katsuki, at least lift your face off the toilet seat!

He heard a gasp in the doorway. 

"Yuuri!" 

Oh shit. 

Viktor was at his side in an instant, gently peeling him off the toilet. Yuuri whimpered, even Viktor’s slow movements sent ripples of of discomfort through his body. Despite that, the main concern in the back of his mind as he was slowly led back to bed, was that he really wished he flushed the toilet before his boyfriend/coach had come in.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Viktor has to make a tough choice.

Viktor narrowed his eyes at the digital thermometer.

"Yuuri, you're running a fever."

"Can’t be that bad."

"Yuuri, it's 38.9."

"Celsius?"

"Celsius."

Yuuri slowly blinked at that. "Oh...well, what time is it?"

Viktor had to chuckle at this. If just to keep from getting upset with his stubborn love.

Yuuri tried to reach for his glasses on the night stand, tried to sit up because he just-

"Yuuri, you are not leaving this room."

"But Vi-"

"You are very sick. You might have the flu."

"No, I just need to-"

Viktor gently held Yuuri's hands, wincing at how hot they felt in his own. He knew all too well the frustrations he felt. No one wanted to get sick the day of a competition. He couldn't help but feel at fault for not noticing sooner. He could've helped Yuuri nip this in the bud. Now he had to try to convince him that he needed to rest. That he couldn’t compete in this condition. Even though that meant he'd be disqualified. He could already see the devastation in those brown eyes.

But Viktor had to make these hard choices. It was his duty as his coach. And as his partner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Super short chapter I know!  
> The others aren't quite so short!
> 
> As always, kudos and comments greatly appreciated!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri tries to fight.

Yuuri was angry. Viktor was being ridiculous. He truly didn't understand the gravity of the situation. Yes he was running a high fever, yes he could only keep liquids down (barely), and he did feel like his body was revolting against him. But that didn't mean he could just miss the competition! Especially this one. The Grand Prix. What they both worked so hard for. Viktor didn't get it. Why  couldn’t he understand the gravity of this situation?

Wait.

Viktor was already a five time gold medalist.

Wait.

He  _ should've  _ understood  _ because _ he a five time gold medalist. One didn't achieve such greatness by sitting out every time they had the sniffles.

He launched into a coughing fit, coughing so hard that he feared he'd vomit for the third time that day.

Was it even still the same day?

Oh no.The competition! He'd miss it! What time was it? Where was Viktor?

He needed to get out of bed and-

"Yuuri! What are you doing?"

"C-competition..." his throat felt on fire. He tried not to flinch when Viktor's hands held him firmly on his shoulders.

"Oh no you don't."

"No...I..whoa...d-dizzy..." the room reeled to one side, not doing his stomach any favors. 

"It’s okay, I got you."

Of course. Viktor had everything but still, Yuuri had to do this on his own. He had to get to the rink. Had to compete. The gold medal. He had to win it. "Mmm, need to go..."

"Back to bed. You need your rest." Viktor was being gentle and patient, but it sounded patronising to Yuuri.

"No, I can still make it!" he started coughing again, tears blurring his vision, stomach aching from the force. Why was Viktor doing this? Why couldn’t he understand how badly,desperately he needed to go out there? If he quit now it would all be over. 

Yuuri turned his head so as not to cough on Viktor, but still tried to pull away from him . Tried in between each chest burning, wheezy, cough, to get Viktor to  _ understand.  _

But of course in this miserably weakened state, there was no way he could actually overpower Viktor's hold. His struggles came to a pitiful stop, his coach’s eyes filled with sympathy that Yuuri didn’t want to see.

He glanced at the door, panting way too much from such little exertion.It was then as his head was guided gently back to the firm hotel pillows, that he couldn't fight any longer.  His hands slowly dropped from Viktor’s.

There was no way he'd get on that ice, perform, or anything else. He had failed to show the world his love. Viktor’s love. He failed Viktor. Himself. Everyone.

A whimper escaped his lips, eyes closing in miserable defeat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well he tried...  
> Poor bean.
> 
> As always, comments and kudos much appreciated! Even suggestions because I do want to up my sickfic game!  
> Thanks for giving this a read!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's gonna be a rough ride.

Shivering. Why was he shivering? He tried to reach for the blankets and found them already covering his body. That was weird. Was there a fan on? But there was no fan  in the room. His teeth chattered. His head hurt. His everything hurt. The shivering certainly didn’t help matters. 

“V-vikt-t-tor….” his voice was so hoarse. Something shifted beside him. Gently pushed away damp strands of hair from his face. “M’c-cold.” his teeth chattered.

“It’s the fever.You need to try and rest." it broke the Russian's heart to see him shivering beneath the blanket, a mixture of frustration and illness shining in his tired eyes. He brought the small trash bin by Yuuri's bedside and sat next to the shivering lump, rubbing soothing patterns through the not thick enough material.

Yuuri curled up tighter in the useless blanket. He coughed, a wet hacking sound, wishing that he could die. He felt awful. And Viktor wasn’t being helpful. What did he mean ‘it was the fever’? Shouldn’t he be hot then? He coughed again, harsher and he could feel Viktor rub his back through the blanket. He also heard him say something in Russian? Or maybe English? He didn’t know. He felt too awful. He couldn’t stop shivering because of his weird fever and his body already felt achy and all this shaking was not helping at all. 

At one point, he tried to get out of the blanket cocoon but he nearly fell out the bed.

“What’s wrong?”

“M’c-cold.” How did Viktor get there so fast?

“Do you need to use the bathroom?” he slowly moved Yuuri into a sitting position. “Or do you want something to drink?” he had managed to hold down water so far. 

He wanted to stop shaking. He wanted to get warm. He wanted to not have this stupid flu that ruined everything and only further proved how useless he was. 

***

Viktor knew how horrible Yuuri felt. And not just because of the flu. To get this sick the day of a competition had to be the worse nightmare for him. And in the middle of the Grand Prix Series. He had worked so very hard. 

It wasn't easy having to let the others know that Yuuri wouldn't be competing. Thankfully, Yuuri was finally asleep during those difficult phone calls. He didn't want to have to keep arguing with him. Even if he did find it a little endearing to see him so stubborn with the fight in his eyes despite the feverish haze. He really did remind him of himself sometimes.

He sat at the small desk chair in the hotel room. There was no way Yuuri could fly home tomorrow in this state. Or for the rest of the week. Staying at a hotel while sick would not be fun. Hopefully it didn't get too serious. His gaze shifted to the shivering lump on the bed. A deep chesty cough shook the bed followed by several pitiful sniffles. The wastebasket was filling up with balled up tissues, some never even made it off the bed. Viktor would have to do a medicine run soon. The small emergency medicine they had packed wouldn’t be nearly enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, comments and kudos very much appreciated!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri's still sick. Viktor's trying his best.

The phones had to be kept off. Everyone. EVERYONE was blowing up both Yuuri and Viktor's phones. It made sense. People were worried. But the constant buzzing of the phones bothered Yuuri. And it was already a struggle to keep him from his phone when he was awake. He dared not turn on the t.v. Of course when it came to Yuuri’s family, Viktor made sure to keep them updated. 

In the few hours of sleep, Yuuri had long since kicked the blankets and his pajama pants off. Viktor suggested he at least keep his socks on. Truth was, had he the strength and stability,Yuuri would’ve pulled them off too. Judging by the heavy congested breathing and restless movements growing in frequency, Yuuri’s sleep was becoming less restful.He was now curled up in a ball, coughing openly, face deeply flushed from the exertion. Viktor offered him some water but he shook his head.

"Yuuri, you must stay hydrated."

Yuuri stared blankly at the wall, running a clammy hand underneath his nose with a snort.

"Let me take your temperature again." Viktor frowned at the lack of response.

Yuuri let Viktor check his temperature without complaint. His fever wasn't breaking. The medicine he took earlier wasn’t working. Yuuri’s shirt was damp. It would worsen his chills.

“Let me change your shirt, Yuuri.”

It took some time to uncurl him. Every movement had him either coughing or moaning in pain. Viktor with loving patience, helped him out of his damp shirt and into a fresh one. Viktor opted for one of his own, hoping the larger size would provide more comfort. Yuuri didn’t seem to notice as he curled up on the bed again. He didn’t pull up the blankets. He sipped at the water given to him without protest this time. He wished it wasn’t room temperature.

After that, despite Viktor’s efforts to be of comfort, he wouldn't look at Viktor. His mind too foggy, too achy. He just wanted to sleep. But he couldn’t get comfortable. Viktor would try to talk to him but he didn't want to talk. His throat hurt and he felt congested and hot and somewhere underneath all that was the undercurrent of something. Something bad. Like somehow he brought this on himself. But at this point he'd start coughing or feel sleepy or hot or cold or something? He couldn't think about it right now. Which was good because he felt like shit.

***

With Yuuri in desperate need of medicines and supplies, Viktor had to venture out. He honestly didn’t want to. The last thing he wanted was to leave Yuuri alone when he was this sick. It crossed his mind to wake the man up and let him know where he was going, but he couldn’t. He barely slept at all today. Yuuri needed as much rest he could get. Odds are Yuuri probably wouldn’t remember anyway. And taking him along was a definite no.

Viktor watched the man he loved lay sprawled out on the bed, fevered brow creased in discomfort, raspy breaths leaving his chapped parted lips. Yuuri suddenly stirred, rolling over to his side away from him. 

He only hoped Yuuri remained asleep while he made his supply run. 

Navigating the stores wasn't a challenge. It was the journalist. Hungry for a story involving Yuuri Katsuki's condition and whether he'd ever be able to skate again and how would this affect his own career. They were swarming at the hotel. Viktor had already gave a statement early on, promising that Yuuri was well on his way to recovery and would be skating again once he recovered.

But these vultures couldn't be satisfied.

Viktor couldn't focus on that now. With a shopping bag full of medicines, soups, tissues, throat drops, and garlic, he hurried back to the hotel his heartbreaking further upon entering the room to the sounds of retching again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just one chapter update this time.
> 
> As always, thanks for reading and kudos and comments are greatly appreciated!


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Get someone in your life who ain't afraid to wipe your nose when it's runny.

Yuuri was awoken by his own coughing. In the matter of a day, he was only getting worse. Or had it been just a day? He wasn’t sure. If he thought about it too long a more pressing matter that he somehow couldn’t recall would start to press in on him.

 

He was hot.

 

He was stuffy.

 

He was thirsty.

 

Weakly, he reached for the bottled water on the nightstand, taking slow slips. He thought he could handle some water. Apparently he could not. But it wasn’t like he had eaten much today. The last thing he managed to keep down were some crackers. Now that measly amount he barely ingested earlier was splashing back into the toilet bowl.

 

“Oh Yuuri…”

 

If he had the energy he would have jumped ten feet. He would’ve told Viktor to go away and let him die. He settled for a groan instead, shutting his eyes. He could only imagine how pathetic and gross he looked.

 

Much like the other times when Viktor found him sick, Yuuri said nothing. He made no movements of his own accord  as the older man slowly pried him off the toilet, carefully propping him against the the bathtub until he flushed the toilet, fetched and wetted the face towel in the sink, and gently place Yuuri on the closed toilet lid. Viktor didn’t ask how he was feeling. He didn’t need to. And Yuuri was glad as Viktor wiped his mouth with the damp towel.

With Yuuri back in bed once more and dressed in another shirt and fresh underwear, Viktor gently placed a cooling patch he bought from his errand, on Yuuri’s blazing forehead.

 

“Cold…” Yuuri sniffled.

 

“I know, it’s for your fever.I will see if we can get a doctor to see you.” he reached out brushing away the sweaty strands of hair from the sick man’s face.

 

“M’sorry.”

 

Viktor paused in opening another water bottle. This time he was giving it to him with a straw.“Yuuri you have nothing to apologize for.”

 

Yuuri shielded his eyes with his arm, his sniffles increasing with frequency.

 

Viktor’s heart broke into a million pieces.

 

“It’s going to be alright Yuuri.” he whispered, wishing more than ever that this wasn’t happening. That if he could make this awfulness go away, he’d do anything in his power to do so.

  
  


***

  
  


It was a long night. But by morning, things weren’t so terrible. They managed to get a doctor to see Yuuri. It wasn’t a surprise he had the flu. It was strongly advised that if things took a turn that Yuuri be admitted to a hospital. Viktor himself was more than willing to do that now but the expression on Yuuri’s face said otherwise. He would respect his decision. For now. 

 

The doctor wrote a prescription for Tamiflu in hopes of shortening the duration of Yuuri’s flu. He was still in the window for it to be considered effective if he took it today. That meant Viktor would have to venture out again. But luckily Yuuri was fast asleep after the doctor’s visit. Odds are he wouldn’t stay asleep. Throughout the night Yuuri would wake up coughing, or thrashing about from a fever dream. It was hard and a couple of times Viktor wanted to rush Yuuri to the hospital in the middle of the night. But by daybreak, Yuuri was finally getting some restful sleep despite his runny nose and chainsaw snores.

 

It was the first time he heard Yuuri snore. Had he not be riddled with flu, it would have been endearing and worth teasing him about in the future.

  
  


***

 

When he returned from the pharmacy and they barrage of journalist(seriously, did they ever quit?) Viktor was surprised to see Yuuri awake...and on his phone.

 

“Yeah, I’b sorry for bak’ig you worry  _ sniiif _ ! Doh really, id’s nod bad.” he rubbed a balled up tissue to his red chapped nose. Judging  by the sea of tissues now littering the bed, the congestion was really starting to set in. Yuuri glanced up and smiled sheepishly at Viktor. Viktor joined him on the bed ignoring his miming protests. It wasn’t like he wasn’t already exposed.

 

Viktor took the tissue from his love’s hand and gently wiped under his nose for him as he continued talking. He would’ve guessed his mother, but Yuuri was talking in english. He pressed a kiss to his sweaty forehead, glad it wasn’t as warm as yesterday. Hopefully he’d be breaking the fever by tonight.

 

Yuuri paused in his conversation, quickly turning to muffle several harsh coughs into his shoulder. He smiled weakly at Viktor when the older man patted his back. “Sorry,  _ sniif _ ! Phi-”he turned away to sneeze, the force of it made him dizzy. The second and third one did not help matters. Viktor used the same tissue to wipe at his nose. He turned his attention to the medicine he just picked up, shaking the box at him. Yuuri nodded at him.

 

Yuuri ended the phone call with his best friend quickly, promising to take care of himself and to have Viktor keep him and the others updated. Apparently, he wasn’t the only one genuinely concerned over his health. It stirred his heart with emotions Yuuri wasn’t expecting to feel. It also increased the ever present guilt looming in the shadows since Phichit’s call.

 

In the short time that Viktor had been gone, Yuuri felt brave enough to check his phone. He knew Viktor kept the phones off so they wouldn’t disturb his sleep, but he was also aware of how Yuuri was when it came to his phone. Especially during competition. Which he was now disqualified from. And millions of people were probably angry at him for being so weak. Blaming him for wasting Viktor’s time. Pulling him off the ice when he could be working on his sixth gold medal. All those hate comments…

 

But then he saw all those miss calls from his family and Phichit and unknown numbers. Due to the difference in timezones, he decided to just send his sister Mari, a text letting her know he was still alive at least. He’d save his apologies for being such a disappointment for later. Mostly likely in person. His eyes widened at the amount of missed calls from Phichit and was debating on returning it when his phone buzzed in his hands, the Thailand skater’s name and photo flashing across the screen. The relief in his friend’s voice briefly extinguished his self loathing. But it made his guilt rise. But Phichit was only concerned for his best friend. Not once in the brief phone call was he angry. Hearing the congestion in Yuuri’s voice, he understood how miserably sick he was.

 

“Take it easy and get well soon, Yuuri! We’re all rooting for you!”

 

Rooting for him? Who? And rooting for what? It almost sounded like Phichit was expecting him to return to the ice? No way.

 

He was actually glad for another coughing fit to distract him because Viktor was staring at him in that probing way before he ended the call.

 

“Yuuri, before you take the Tamiflu, would you like to eat something?”

 

The thought of eating made him uneasy, but he knew he needed to attempt to put something in his stomach. He looked down at his phone sitting in his lap. Viktor’s hand was covering it.

 

“Yeah, thank- _ sniff _ -sorry.”

 

“Yuuri,” Viktor patted his back in comfort. “You don’t have to ap-” he was cut off by his love’s sneezes. 

 

“I’b sorry!” Yuuri’s eyes were wide behind his cupped hands.

 

Viktor ruffled Yuuri’s hair and searched for the tissue box amidst the sea of tissues. Successfully finding it , he plucked out several, trying to coax his love’s hands away from his face.

 

“This is no different from when your nose gets runny from skating.”

 

Yuuri begged to differ as the man he once worshiped from afar was now wiping his snotty nose with the tenderest of care.

 

“I think you need some more water.” Viktor frowned at the contents of the tissue. 

 

“I-I think I wanna try some soup!” he had to steer the conversation from his snot. 

 

Viktor readily allowed the shift in topic. Expertly tossing the used tissue to the trash bin beside the bed, he planted a kiss on his forehead and got up.

 

Yuuri felt his chills slowly return at Viktor’s absence and thought about going under the covers. He frowned at the damp spot where he’d been sweating through the better part of yesterday. Deciding to busy himself with his phone he was surprised to find it no longer in his lap.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A longer chapter yay!
> 
> Kudos and comments much appreciated!  
> Thanks for reading!


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Slight mentions of vomit.
> 
> Lots of mentions of Viktor being the best caretaker evah!

Viktor would much rather have taken his student back to his place but considering it took around nine hours from Moscow to St. Petersburg by car, that was a instant no, and the very thought of trying to shuffle Yuuri onto a flight would be just as awful. No. It was best to just keep him here. Hopefully that Tamiflu would shorten his flu considerably enough so that within the week,Yuuri would be well enough to fly back home.

He shifted his attention from the small bowl of soup rotating in the microwave to the sick man sitting on the edge of the bed shivering in his shirt and underwear. He noticed the damp spots on the white sheets where Yuuri had sweated through the night. He frowned at the image of this poor man having to curl up miserably into that bedding.

They were gonna need some new sheets.

***

Wrapped up in the blankets until the fresh sheets arrived while sitting in Viktor’s lap with a bowl of steaming soup in his lap,and his phone safely out of sight, Yuuri slowly ate trying not to get embarrassed at how runny his nose was getting from just the steam. He couldn’t taste the soup very well but it was comforting as it warmed his throat and belly.Sitting in Viktor’s lap was nice, it helped steady him and added an extra layer of warmth the blankets alone couldn’t provide. 

Yuuri ate in silence aside from the content hums and small talk from Viktor. 

“If we were at my place, I would have gotten you some proper soup.” he frowned into Yuuri’s dark hair. “But the can stuff is not too bad I guess.”

Yuuri nodded trying not to think too much about what it would be like in Viktor Nikiforov’s house. Thinking too much in general made him feel uneasy. He tried to focus on the present moment of eating soup and the comforting movements from Viktor as he did so.

He was making a lot of progress with eating until a nasty coughing fit seized him. Viktor had to take the soup out of his hands so it wouldn’t spill. The coughs were wet and barking, shaking him like a leaf in the wind. He motioned weakly for the bottled water, not wanting to have to get out of Viktor’s lap. His stomach hurt from all the coughing and he feared he might vomit again. Viktor patted his back until the coughs settled. Thankfully his stomach did as well.

Viktor carefully maneuvered to get Yuuri his water without removing him from his lap. He took slow steady sips. When he finished, his breathing steadying, Viktor plucked several tissues and was about to hand them to him but noted how his hands trembled. Carefully he guided the tissues over his love’s runny nose and smiled a little at the lack of prompting when Yuuri leaned forward a little and blew.

“Better?” Viktor asked when he finished. He angled his head to kiss Yuuri’s forehead which along with the rest of his face was presently blushing.

***

"It's alright, Yuuri."

Yuuri shook his head, tears streaming down his cheeks. He tried to voice how not alright he was but his voice cracked and another round of heavy, painful coughs seized him. He felt even worse now. Not too long after finishing his soup, he started coughing really hard, his face flushing, barely able to catch a breath. He coughed so hard that some of the soup came back up, dribbling from between his fingers of his cupped hand and down his shirt.

He was out of shirts now and Viktor was running low too. It wasn’t seeming so ridiculous now that his coach had packed so many clothes as he was typically known for. His excess was coming in handy.

Viktor helped him out of the shirt, deciding that now was a perfect time for a bath.

Yuuri was so unsteady on his feet, so taking a shower was a definite no. And getting in the bath in general was proving to be a greater challenge. In the end, Viktor decided it would be best to sit Yuuri who was getting that far away look in his eyes again, on the toilet and wash him with a face towel.

He was slow and gentle with him, making sure that Yuuri was still with him. The sniffling from his tears had decreased but Yuuri wasn’t saying anything. He wouldn’t respond when Viktor asked him how he felt or if he felt too cold when he noticed the goosebumps on his arms.

Finished with the makeshift sponge bath, Viktor was helping him get dressed in one of his shirts when he heard a knock at the door. He made sure Yuuri had the shirt on fully before hurrying to the door. He coughed, sneezed twice, and shivered in only Viktor’s shirt. When Viktor returned some time later, he reached for the damp face cloth he left in the bathroom sink, re-wet it in warm water, and wrung it out fully before slowly reaching out and carefully moving Yuuri’s hands to wipe them clean.

“I think you should take the Tamiflu now.”

Yuuri nodded and let Viktor lead him back to the room. Fresh new bed sheets sat folded on the bed. The old ones were bunched up in the corner. 

“Wait just a moment while I finish the bed, Yuuri.” Viktor guided him to the chair He kissed him on the forehead, pausing a moment, he reached for the tissue box, handed it to Yuuri before draping the blanket over him then returned to fixing the bed.

Yuuri watched in amazement at how efficient Viktor was. But he shouldn’t be that surprised. Or was it because Viktor was doing something so domestic? Making the bed? Viktor made his bed back in Hasetsu every morning. This wasn’t anything special, and yet he was transfixed.

Must have been the fever.

“Yuuri, let’s get you back into bed.”

Was it bad that he wanted to watch this man make the bed forever?

But Viktor was starting to worry at the lack of verbal response, so Yuuri slowly made the effort to stand up only to be scooped up into the Russian’s arms along with the blankets and tissue box and carried to the bed. Only when he was safely placed on the bed covered warmly,and Viktor handing him a pill from the blister pack that Yuuri realized that he wasn’t wearing any underwear.

“Oh no, is your fever spiking? Your face is getting red!”

He couldn’t swallow the medicine fast enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We now know where in the season this fic takes place! Information about the time it takes to travel  
> from Moscow to St. Petersburg is from Google.
> 
> Thanks so much for continuing to stick with me and this fic.  
> To be honest it's not my best work and it's been a struggle to complete it because of my depression and anxiety. So I really do appreciate each and everyone of you who even just skims through this. Seeing the comments and kudos really fuel me.  
> Thank you.


	8. Chapter 8

Yuuri had slept the rest of the day only waking to use the bathroom, eat more soup, or drink water. It was now morning and Yuuri had managed to get a hold of his phone and was now staring at it with tears in his eyes, trembling. It was this particular scene that Viktor had woken up to. From his spot beside his student, he sat up quickly, wrapping his arms around him. While checking for fever, he noticed the phone in his hands,the website he was reading. Yuuri was full on sobbing at this point, apologizing between sniffles.

“Yuuri, everything will be fine. You will have next season to try again.” he kissed the side of his head.

“Next season?” he turned his head to stare at him in disbelief, “Viktor, this was my last season remember?”

It had all come crashing back as he saw the results from the Rostelcom Cup. The six names from the Mens Singles that would be proceeding to the Grand Prix Final. His name not among them. Only in the comments was his name mentioned and he couldn’t bring himself to read what the comments actually said because he already knew.

A failure.

A waste of time.

A waste of Viktor’s time.

This was suppose to be the season that-well, it didn’t matter now. It was all over. His career on the ice, his love, all of it was over.

“Yuuri, you don’t really believe that now? Not after all the progress you’ve made? You still have so much-”

“Viktor please,” more tears fell. “This is it for me. This… _sniff!_ this was my last chance to prove to myself...to-to be worth something and I-I _sniff! sniff!_   I failed...Viktor...it’s o-over.”

“No it’s not Yu-” he reached over to cup a tear streaked cheek only to have his hand slapped away.

“Yes it is! _sniff!_ Stop telling me it’s not! I wasted everyone’s time! I-I couldn’t even make it _to_ the GPF!” his voice cracked, dissolving into coughs. His phone that he’d been holding fell from his free hand, tumbling to his side between him and Viktor.

Viktor had so much he wanted to say. So much he needed Yuuri to understand. But as he was, it was impossible. Yuuri was still very sick. He needed to be resting and not getting himself worked up. Nothing would be solved at this rate. What he needed to focus on was getting Yuuri better. Then once he was better, they would have this conversation properly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A shortie this time folks. Vitya, you should've hidden that phone better. 
> 
> As always, thanks for reading and kudos and comments are greatly appreciated!

**Author's Note:**

> I got inspired to write this awhile ago when real life competitive skater, Yuzuru Hanyu had to sit out a competition because of the flu. I couldn't help but wonder, "What if that was Yuuri?"
> 
> This will be muilti chapter fic. The chapters may get longer as the story progresses. I plan to update weekly with a chapter or two.
> 
> As always, kudos and comments greatly appreciated!


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